Author's Note:
For those who have found themselves here, at the "last" chapter… Thank you! I am very grateful and appreciative of the time and interest you have invested in this tale! This is the longest one I've written to date, so I am very thankful for all of the feedback, both constructive and praising, because it kept me focused and motivated!

I hope you enjoy the final chapters.

Yes, chapters… After this one, I will (as requested) be posting an epilogue.

Chapter 27

"There may be a way, but it will be painful for you."

"I'll do anything."

...

Three months later…

Early morning sunshine streamed in through the apartment's picture windows, bathing the living room in a gentle kind of illumination that only occurred at the dawn of each new day. Although warmed by the touch, Lakota felt that today's soft rays of light, muted by the tinted glass, carried a somber melancholy within their radiance. Of course, she was willing to admit the possibility that the light was just an innocent bystander, and it was really her own underlying mood that she was labeling.

Standing next to the tempered glass, with its reinforced kinetic barriers, she looked out on Illium's busy metropolitan landscape, a city that never slowed down, never took a break, never slept. A wistful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she mused on the city's constant state of motion being a subtle but accurate reflection of her own life.

Her early years on Earth, within the poverty-laden masses of Mexico City, had been filled with constant frenzied scurrying. An almost hyperactive movement from one hiding place to the next, stealing food at every opportunity, maintaining a wide-eyed vigilance within a shroud of perpetual fear, knowing that to close your eyes could mean they may never open again.

When the Tenth Street Reds found her scavenging through dirty back alleys, they swept her away from the day to day struggle for food, shelter and clothing by hurling her into a whole new kind of frenzied adversity: a kill or be killed environment that rewarded those with the most power. She learned quickly that mental strength was a far superior weapon than physical strength and that a clever retort could cause someone to misstep just as easily as an outstretched foot. Power, she discovered, had many shades and forms and could be employed overtly or subtly, but was most effective when applied discriminately, strategically behind the scenes, in the shadows where no one noticed who was pulling the strings.

Life within the Reds was grim and brutal and those who survived learned to become just as brutal. Lakota might have become like the majority of the Reds she encountered, hard and cold, but soon after being thrust into their ranks, she and another young, new recruit named Rosa, forged a friendship. The Reds deemed attachment and sentimentality as weakness, so the two kept their bond hidden while they did what was necessary to survive.

Although she wasn't invested in the Reds as an organization, Lakota became invested in those members who were assigned to her, which was in direct contrast to the lessons of the Red's Den Mother tried to instill. "It is our goal to become stronger, to achieve our fullest potential, and conflict forces one to better oneself. It is the catalyst for change, growth, adaption, evolution… or death." In fact, when Lakota's fondness for her charges was discovered, the Den Mother attempted to teach Lakota a lesson by arranging their execution, and Rosa ended up as collateral damage.

Lakota had never aspired to become a Red, being part of the organization was just another means of survival, but she advanced through their ranks nonetheless. Then, after ten years of servitude and one night of bloodied revenge, a retaliation she met out in equal measure to those lives the Den Mother had ended, she escaped the Reds by joining the Alliance. Her frenzied path to freedom was just another means of survival though. She quickly adapted to the structured pace of military life, to the strict new rules but surprisingly not so different goals, and once again, she flourished.

Even in the Alliance, despite the fact that she was elevated to the elite special ops program, then trained in isolation to become a sniper, a deadly marksman who generally worked alone, attachments formed as she developed friendships with those in her unit.

In this way, her mind and spirit had always been in conflict with her environment.

In the aftermath of Akuze, though, being the only survivor of a tragic event that stripped her of all those she had dared to call friend, Lakota finally held tight to the tenants revered by both the Reds and the Alliance elite. She maintained a vise-like grip on the idea that attachments were dangerous, they were a handicap, and had to be avoided.

For the next six years she directed her energy in the service of the Alliance. She remained in motion, but she remained aloof, keeping any threat of personal familiarity, of attachment, at bay. She survived.

Then, Saren Arterius, along with Sovereign and the Geth heretics, threatened the galaxy, and she found her path intersecting with members of other species. They were individuals who fought at her side, and who over time, slowly, methodically brought down all of those walls she had carefully constructed. Garrus, Tali and Wrex insinuated themselves with bold action and an easy camaraderie, but it was Liara, who with a natural, unassuming grace, slipped past her defenses, offering nothing more than honest interest and quiet determination.

With Liara's soothing presence and steadfast allegiance guiding the way, Lakota had finally been able to find peace, and so much more, while standing still.

"You're back early." A familiar voice carried down from the bedroom loft.

Lakota turned her head, looking up at the top of the stairs on the other side of the room, and smiled. "You're supposed to be in bed."

"And you're supposed to be on the Destiny Ascension," Liara countered, tilting her head challengingly but making no action to move from her spot.

"I charmed my way out of the Council's grasp. What's your excuse?"

"I am not tired and no longer wished to be in bed."

"But if you're not in bed, how can I surprise you with breakfast in bed?"

Quirking a skeptical eyebrow, Liara said, "You made breakfast?"

"Well, I bought you breakfast. It's warming up now." Lakota smiled sheepishly. "You know I'm doing us both a favor by not cooking. My breakfast skills are best utilized by grabbing some takeout."

"So what did your discerning breakfast skills acquire?" Liara asked as she slowly descended the staircase. The early morning sunlight captured her off-white satin loungewear in a soft radiance that seemed to make the fabric shimmer with each movement.

"Lemon scones and the fruity Asari pastry that reminds me of French crepes."

"Akwuiva."

"Yeah… that."

When she reached the bottom landing, Liara shook her head, her face betraying a minor look of exasperation. "You know its name; I don't understand why you refuse to say it."

Lakota made her way across the room, drinking in the sight of the Asari, though with each footfall her brow furrowed further in concern.

Throughout the last three months, Liara's body had gone from healthy to thin as it struggled to cope with the demands that had been placed on it while in the ruins of Eletania. Lakota knew that, over the past few weeks, Liara's condition had been slowly improving, her body finally adjusting to a new set of limitations, but after being away for a few days, the sight of her lover's weakened state remained fairly shocking. In her thoughts, Liara was always imagined as strong and robust, ready to take on any challenge put before her, not as a woman with dark circles underneath her eyes, who fought exhaustion and random phantom pains while, as each day passed, the blue hue of her skin seemed to grow paler.

Standing in front of the Asari, Lakota forced a smile. "You say it better," she said, answering her lover's question, hoping the feigned light and playful tone masked the worry within her mind.

"Better?" Liara scoffed. "It's one word, Shepard. Akwuiva."

"Yes, see… that was so much sexier than if I had tried to say it."

"Sexier? That's your reasoning?"

"Of course, is there any better?"

"I hope you avoided that path of logic when you were with the Council."

"Liara T'Soni!" Lakota admonished good-naturedly, her hands capturing the Asari's hips while leaning in to place a delicate kiss on her cheek. "That's a scandalous thought. Besides, I think Tevos would get the wrong idea, then Aria would get her commando-pants rage on and… well… yeah… that's not good for anyone. Except, maybe, Tevos."

"I think you should be more concerned about the Salarian Dalatrass," Liara said, her hands instinctively settling on Lakota's shoulders. "I heard she has quite an avid interest in cross-species copulation, which is utterly taboo for someone of her rank in Salarian society."

"Ew… I didn't need to hear that. Or know that. Or picture that in my head." Lakota shook her head and grimaced. "Dammit. And now that's all I'm going to be able think about when I see her."

Liara rolled her eyes in amusement.

"It's not funny, T'Soni."

"Oh, but I think it is."

Lakota flashed a playful look of disdain, then her arms wrapped around Liara's waist, impulsively pulling the Asari into a strong, loving embrace. She consciously shelved her concern regarding her lover's too thin form and instead tightened her hold as though never to let go.

"I missed you," she whispered, smiling as she breathed in deeply, catching the Asari's familiar fragrance, lightly floral woven within a hint of some unknown spice.

Liara snuggled into the soothing comfort of her lover's body, resting her head at the crook where Lakota's neck and shoulder met. She was surprised, like always, by the deceptive softness of the Spectre's Alliance uniform. "I missed you, too. You were only gone four days, but it felt much longer."

Lakota held Liara closer, placing a tender, lingering kiss on her forehead. "So, it's settled, I'll never leave you for more than a day."

"That may be a little extreme, Commander," Liara teased.

"Extreme is my middle name, Doctor."

"There was a time when I thought 'Extreme' may have been your first name."

Lakota stepped out of the embrace, but captured Liara's hand and led her towards the kitchen. "And now?"

"Now it's more likely to be a pseudonym, since you've been rather reclusive of late."

When they reached the kitchen, Lakota released Liara's hand then moved to pull the pan of warmed pastries out of the oven, setting them on the countertop.

"I don't think of my time with you on Illium as being reclusive," she said.

"You don't?" Liara questioned as she sat down on a stool next to the counter, the section that served as a breakfast bar. She watched the Spectre pour hot water into a mug containing a bag of tea leaves. From the distinctive citrus aroma produced, she knew that it was her favorite blend.

Lakota placed the steaming mug of tea and a plate of pastries in front of the Asari, then turned back towards the cooktop, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot she had brewed earlier. "No. I think of it as being a much needed vacation for the both of us."

"Me being ill and you playing nursemaid is hardly a vacation. For either of us." Liara tore off a piece from the lemon scone, looking at the baked good as though contemplating the merits of its consumption.

"Are you insulting my bedside manner?"

"I am merely pointing out that my being cooped up for three months, in and of itself, is tiring," Liara said sharply. Then, pursing her lips, she leveled her gaze at the Specter. "And I think being subjected to the same environment for so long is more exhausting than my physical recovery. And a great deal more frustrating!"

Liara's hand clenched reflexively as she finished her heated statement and the piece of lemon scone crumbled onto to countertop.

Eying the bits of scone in irritation, she wrapped her hands around the hot mug of tea, something that was less susceptible to her ire. "And no amount of vids or visitors or pastries is going to change that."

Ignoring the Asari's angry tones, Lakota answered calmly. "Okay. We'll talk to Chakwas. See if she thinks you're ready to venture beyond these walls."

"She's not here! How would she know whether I am ready or not?"

"I'll call her this morning. We can run your biometric scans after breakfast and send her the uploaded data. She'll confer with her team and have an answer for us by the evening."

"Fine," Liara grumbled, yielding to the Spectre's suggestion, but clearly not happy about having to obtain permission.

She knew she was being petulant, taking her irritation out on her lover who was only trying to be nice, but even the Spectre's pampering was wearing on her nerves. She had been regulated to almost constant bed rest for two months, then restricted movement for the last month all the while every minute aspect of her life was monitored and catalogued by the small team of doctors, researchers and analysts under Chakwas' supervision—those who had passed Miranda's scrutiny. She felt like a caged animal and as such, she was lashing out when provoked, even if inadvertently.

With an empty plate and her cup of coffee in hand, Lakota moved to the opposite side of the countertop, facing Liara directly. She took a sip of her coffee while putting the plate in front of the Asari, allowing time for the prickly energy in the room to lessen. Finally, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

Ignoring the Spectre's question, Liara instead studied the pastries in front of her and the mug of hot tea between her hands. "These are my favorites."

"I was hoping that that was still true."

Liara took a deep breath and, trying to lighten her mood, she forced a smile. "And what did I do to deserve this special treatment?"

"By just being you."

"Sweet talker." At that moment, Liara conceded, silently, that it was always easier to banter playfully, even if only half-heartedly, in order to avoid answering difficult, far-reaching questions.

Lakota took another sip of her coffee, then smiled warmly. "I have my moments."

Liara attempted to maintain her smile, but her interest in playful flirtation was barely present, so it held no luster.

"And here's another moment." Reaching over to the plate of pastries, Lakota picked up what remained of the lemon scone then placed it on the plate in front of Liara. "You need to eat something."

The Asari glanced at the scone, but made no move toward it, then returned her gaze back on the Spectre. "Did you have a chance to talk to Councilor Anderson?"

"Briefly. Most of my time was spent answering the other representative's questions. The Citadel Council didn't have much else to ask or add since their first round questions with me. By the way, Wrex says 'hi'."

Using both hands, Liara brought the mug of tea to her lips, taking a sip, but she wasn't invested in the act of actually savoring the taste of the hot liquid. "How is he doing?"

"He seems well. He wasn't pleased about being away from Eve, apparently he's going to be a dad soon, but there was no way he'd trust anyone else to advocate for his people. Plus, I think he wanted to get the true story out of me."

"Did he?"

Lakota shook her head. "No. I think he knows the official story has been edited, but I didn't tell him anything different. The Reapers were defeated. That's all anyone really cares about and I'm not going to give them any more opportunities to interfere with our lives. We've given enough."

"So, the Council and the rest of the Ambassadors accepted the report you submitted? They believe going to Eletania was just a detour to throw off anyone following our path and that our main objective was the ruins on Eden Prime?"

"They did. Although I noticed the report they gave to the rest of the non-council Ambassadors was less robust than the original report I submitted. It mentioned going to Eletania and stopping the mercenaries, even Miranda's brilliant move replicating false ship signatures so they thought a whole fleet was upon them instead of just one ship. Then it mentioned going to a planet – specifically not named in this report- visiting a Prothean ruin and uncovering more information regarding the effects of using the Crucible."

Liara took another sip from the mug in her hands, this time noting how the hot beverage settled in her stomach, warming her from within. "So that's it? No more inquiries? No more demands to answer questions about what really happened?"

"Not from the Council. Anderson knows that while he and I shared an experience, we weren't physically transported to the Citadel. This bit of information has him concerned about the Illusive Man, since he was with us as well. We survived, so there is a chance that he survived, though with all of the Reaper tech in his body, I doubt the Illusive Man would have lasted long once the energy wave was released. Still, Anderson now has that to focus on, along with the Citadel and Crucible still being in Sol space and all of the political landmines that brings."

Liara's eyebrow arched contemplatively as her gaze met the Spectre's. "With the Citadel now located in the Sol system, if it remains the hub of galactic travel, many things will change and fluctuate. Trade routes will deviate; the balance of political influence and economic power will shift; and eventually even planetary demographics in the system will be altered."

"Fortunately," Lakota said, "people smarter than I will have to sort that one out. If I never set foot on the Citadel again, it will be too soon."

She plucked an akwuiva from the plate of pastries, then took a bite from the end. "Don't think I haven't noticed you ignoring that tasty treat on your plate." Wiping away a sliver of fruit filling that trickled down her chin, she added, "You need to eat something, Doctor."

"I'm not hungry, Commander."

"Right," Lakota said, snorting softly. "Just like you're not tired." She placed the partial eaten pastry back on the plate, tilted her head, and gave Liara an appraising look. "You know, I might have believed you, if you didn't look exhausted."

Liara's eyes dropped to the countertop, shaking her head dismissively.

"What?" Lakota asked, slightly perplexed, sensing an uncharacteristic shyness from her lover, something the Asari hadn't exhibited since the days on the original Normandy when they were just getting to know one another.

Biting her lower lip, Liara did not reply immediately, instead absently fixated her eyes on the plate of pastries. After a beat, she hesitantly whispered, "I don't sleep as well when you're away."

Without saying a word, Lakota abandoned her coffee and stepped around the counter, closing the distance to Liara who swiveled in the stool in order to face her lover.

Lakota's left hand captured the Asari's right while her right reached for Liara's downcast chin and tenderly lifted up until their eyes met. For the first time that morning, she felt swallowed by the radiant blue eyes openly staring back at her, spellbound by the depth and richness of their beauty.

"I have a confession," the Spectre said, her soft-spoken words bringing a subtle smile to the Asari's lips.

As her right hand reverently caressed Liara's cheek, Lakota leaned forward until their foreheads touched and held herself still. "I don't sleep well without you either."

Liara's smile grew wider. "I think we may have a problem, then."

"Just another reason why we should never be apart for more than a day."

Both of Liara's hands reached up, delicately framing the Spectre's face between the palms of her hands. "Right now, I'm having a very difficult time wanting to argue with that."

"Then don't," Lakota murmured. "Just go with it."

She leaned back slightly, her gaze cautious and curious as though seeking out a form of affirmation. Then, her eyes locked onto Liara's and she felt herself sinking into the soothing sea of dark blue.

In return, Liara's gaze softened, then, her fingers slipped into the dark strands of the Spectre's hair, bestowing that affirmation by tugging gently and bringing their lips together in a sweet, unhurried kiss.

When it ended, they both pulled back, a quiet adoration reflecting in their eyes.

Reaching to the middle of the countertop, Lakota grabbed her mug of coffee. "What else went on while I was away?"

Liara frowned. "Miranda stopped by."

"Did she?" Lakota replied, trying but failing to sound and look innocent.

"I know you asked her to, don't even try to deny it."

"Okay, I won't." As the Spectre took a sip of coffee, a barely perceptible smile curled at the corner of her mouth. "How is the former Cerberus Officer handling the fun and intrigue of being the Shadow Broker?"

Liara's fingers wrapped around her now lukewarm cup of tea. "I think she has figured out that instead of her time being filled with 'fun and intrigue' it is filled with research, analysis, maneuvers and counter-maneuvers."

"Do you miss it?"

"Well, I'm not actually away from it, am I?" the Asari challenged.

Lakota shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. "Maybe not, but you're no longer running it, either."

As she shook her head, lips pursing in a thin line, Liara said, "With every major government aware that I was the Shadow Broker, my effectiveness and ability to actually work in the shadows was taken away. The only logical course of action was to give up that power."

"Still," Lakota said, "not many people could, or would, do that."

"I took up those reins to help you, to do my part in opposing the Reapers. They have been defeated and you, specifically, no longer need that kind of assistance. Plus," Liara said, bitterness working its way into the tone of her voice, "I highly doubt I would be a very good Shadow Broker from the confines of my bed."

"While that may be true, you didn't answer my question, which by the way, seems to be a recurring theme for you this morning."

Liara stood, then moved over to the cooktop to refresh her cup of tea. "What question didn't I answer?"

While watching the Asari prepare her tea, Lakota sat down in the now vacated stool. "Let's start with the most recent. Do you miss not being the Shadow Broker?"

As soon as the Spectre voiced the question, all of the Asari's tea preparation stopped, like she had been flash-frozen by the inquiry. This wasn't a new pondering for her. Over the last three months, she had little else to do except contemplate her disconnection from the Shadow Broker network and what it meant to her, but she had yet to express her thoughts and feelings about it to anyone. She had yet to discuss how any of the events that day on Eletania had affected her. Until she fully understood her own emotions, she hadn't wanted to engage in any in-depth discussion about the sensitive topic.

So, for almost a minute, she stood statuesque, eyes fixated on her cup, on the tea bag waiting to be doused with hot water, debating on how much of her inner struggle she wanted to reveal.

"It's been difficult to walk away so completely," she began, glancing briefly over her shoulder at the Spectre, "but I think it helped that Miranda had taken over more of the responsibilities while you recovered just after the War."

Liara turned around, abandoning her cup as she leaned back on the counter and crossed her arms in front of herself protectively. Her eyes were cast to the floor.

"I admit that having all of that knowledge, influence and power at my fingertips was a heady experience, and one that was very alluring. Few other occupations allow you to see so thoroughly the effect, direct and indirect, of decisions and choices you make. Without the Broker network, the plans for the Crucible would never have been found; the resources needed for its construction would never have been acquired."

Liara bit her lower lip as she lifted her head, her whole body tensing, waiting for pale green eyes to once again meet hers.

"But honestly," she confessed, "what I miss the most is the sense of purpose it gave me. Right now, I'm not sure what to do. Especially since I can't even go outdoors without ten forms of approval."

"Liara…" Lakota began, but then hesitated when she saw the steely, defensive glint in her lover's eyes.

Sighing heavily, she decided, regardless of how justified the reasons for the confinement may be, not to engage Liara on such a readily combustible subject. Instead, she placed her cup of coffee on the countertop, then, repeated one of the earlier questions that the Asari had deftly attempted to avoid.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Liara's gaze shifted, staring once again at the floor as though it had become the most interesting thing in the universe. "I'm fine."

"Liara…"

"I'm fine, Shepard!" Liara snapped.

"If that were true, then I wouldn't have gotten a call from your father."

Liara looked up, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Is that why you're back early, because she called?"

"No," the Spectre countered. "I'm back early because I missed you. Aethyta called because she said you almost head-butted the nurse practitioner who was helping out while I was away."

"I did not… That is not what…" Liara sputtered hotly, her frown deepening. "I was heading toward the balcony for some fresh air, she blocked my path, and I bumped into her. I did not almost head-butt her. If I had chosen to do anything to her, it would have involved a singularity."

Pushing off from the counter, Liara began to pace the kitchen. Her frustration and anger were evident in the rigidness of her posture and furious stride. The caged animal within fought for escape.

"Liara…"

"What?!" the Asari barked. "I'm tired of someone always watching over me. Of everyone fawning over me. I'm tired of never having any time or space to myself!"

"I understand," Lakota said softly.

"No, you don't," Liara shouted, her arms now adamantly punctuating every statement as her outrage became more apparent. "How could you?! You get to leave whenever you want! You don't have your DNA scanned every other day! You don't have people asking you how you're feeling every thirty minutes, or have every ounce of liquid and gram of food measured and catalogued."

Stepping away from the counter, Lakota intercepted her lover mid-stride. She placed a hand on each arm, gently encouraging the Asari to look her in the eyes. "Liara—"

The Asari twisted out of the Spectre's grasp. "Don't…" she spat.

Without finishing her sentence, Liara turned abruptly, heading toward the picture windows in the living room, trying to stifle the overwhelming irritation that surged through her.

Lakota watched Liara walk away and come to a standstill in front of the tempered glass, looking out across the metropolitan skyline as though immediately lost in silent contemplation. With a deliberately slow gait, she crossed the room to stand next to the Asari, wanting to offer comfort, but being careful not to invade her personal space.

"If you need to be angry with me," she said, "that's fine. If you want to yell at me and scream at me, that's okay too, because I can take it and you need to talk about it. You need to get whatever it is off your chest because you haven't said anything. Keeping everything bottled up inside is not healthy for you. Or us."

Taking a deep breath, Lakota paused, reluctant to continue.

Although they had spoken about that day in the Prothean ruin, the dialogue had been just a superficial retelling of events with no reflection or emotional toll weighed in. She knew from experience that while avoiding potent emotions may be effective in the short-run, in the long run those very emotions would eventually fester and build, growing stronger until they were either acknowledged or they consumed the vessel attempting to restrain them. She wasn't sure what would happen or how Liara would react if she pressed the issue, but she knew she had to try. So, after taking another deep breath, she took the proverbial leap into the abyss.

"Let's be honest about something, though," she began, her expression somewhat tentative, "you aren't angry with me, you're angry about what happened on Eletania."

Liara said nothing, but since Lakota could see the kaleidoscope of turbulent emotions racing behind her eyes, could feel the tension radiating off her, she maintained the discreet distance between them.

"I get that you're angry," Lakota said, trying again. "I understand—"

"You understand?!" the Asari seethed, her eyes narrowing as she shot a dour look at the Spectre. "How could you understand, Shepard? How? Did you see your bondmate collapse as some mutated virus tried to kill her? Did you try to comfort her, lie to her, tell her everything would be all right while kneeling in her blood? Did you watch, helpless, as she lay dying in your arms?"

Lakota stared at the researcher, mouth half open and eyes wide, distress flickering within their pale green depths. "No, I didn't. You did. And then you saved my life. The cost… I can't imagine." She paused as images, torn fragments of those moments in the ruins, flashed within her mind. The cold floor. The smell of burnt electronics. The pain. The look of fear and anguish in dark blue eyes. "I'm so sorry."

A shadow briefly passed across the Asari's face leaving an irritated scowl in its wake. Then, she returned her gaze back to the metropolitan skyline. "It's not your place or responsibility to apologize."

"Maybe not, but—"

"It's not your fault," Liara said curtly, interrupting the Spectre as her right hand made a sharp, dismissive gesture in the air.

"Liara—"

"Stop!" the researcher snapped. "I told you to stop apologizing! You were an innocent victim in all of this, Shepard! An ancillary casualty of the Prothean's experiments. You are not responsible. You are not at fault."

Breathing in deeply, Liara clenched her fists as though reining herself, her unbridled emotions, back in. "It's okay. I'm okay."

The words may have been intended to soothe, but to Lakota's ears the tone of the Asari's voice was biting. "You don't sound okay."

Liara's head twisted sharply, staring down the Spectre. "Well, in all honesty, I'm not!" she retorted. "I'm not okay! I'm not okay with it! I'm not okay with any of it! The… It's… I…"

She looked up toward the ceiling, biting her lower lip, blinking back a flood of tears born of grief and frustration. "You just don't understand." Her whispered words mingled with a low, strangled sob thrumming from her throat.

"Then help me understand," Lakota pleaded, inching a little closer to her lover, but still careful not to touch her.

Liara had been quiet and withdrawn since her ordeal on Eletania, but Lakota had given her the benefit of the doubt, hadn't pushed any conversations, assuming she was still struggling with events that occurred that day, that she needed time to process and that she would talk when she was ready. After three months of tip-toeing around the sensitive subject though, it was time to rip that bandage off and find out what healing, if any, had occurred.

"Liara," the Spectre whispered, her hand reaching out to touch the Asari's shoulder. "Please, tell me."

Barking out a harsh laugh that held no humor, Liara shrugged and stepped away, dislodging the hand from her shoulder.

"Fine," she sneered, turning to glare at her lover, "you want the truth? Well, the truth is that I am angry with you. I'm angry that you're always in harm's way. I'm angry that you died once. That you almost died again. That you made all that effort, sacrificed so much for a galaxy that pays you no heed. That whenever there is trouble, they always ask you to help and you always, always say yes. I am angry that, in terms of importance, we are always second in line."

Lakota winced as the sting of the Asari's comments, while truthful, pierced beneath a surface that no physical armor could ever protect. She remained silent, though, in part because she was unsure of how to respond, but also because she sensed that Liara had more to say. She didn't want to interrupt now that her lover was finally opening up, regardless of how it was expressed. So instead of saying anything, she just offered a sympathetic look while nodding her head in affirmation.

Liara stared at the Spectre, waiting for some form of denial or argument to contradict her words, but when she saw the sorrowful look of resignation on her lover's face, she faltered. She had expected some sort of dispute, had prepared herself, fortified her emotional and mental landscape for a conflict. When none came, that protection and her resolve began to crack.

Shaking her head, Liara's hand covered her mouth, but not before a rueful laugh, sounding like a sob, escaped her lips.

She took a deep breath, her troubled gaze shifting from the Spectre to the window, and looked out on the scene of a busy city completely oblivious and untouched by the truths being voiced in the room. And when she exhaled, her head turning back towards her lover, there was sadness and unshed tears for those truths brimming within her deep, blue eyes.

"What I wanted most was for the war to end while there was still a galaxy left to save." The Asari's voice was faint and weary, her lips curving into a hollow half-smile, a cheerless expression revealing the true sorrow beneath her normally stoic exterior. "And it happened. It's over and the galaxy yet survives. But even though the conflict is supposed to be over, it's not over. Not really. Not for you. There's always one more task to do. One more meeting to attend. One more mission they need you for."

Looking a bit pensive, Lakota absently ran her fingers though her hair. "Not anymore," she said.

Liara blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," the Spectre said, nervously clearing her throat, "that when I spoke to Anderson, I told him I quit."

"You did what?" Liara asked, openly confused by the Spectre's declaration.

"I qui—… Wait a minute." Lakota stepped in front of the Asari with her hands on her hips and a look of disbelief on her face. "Did I just surprise you with something?"

"What? No, I just—"

Lakota, who had an impish gleam in her eyes, placed a forefinger on the Asari's lips, halting her mid-sentence. "No, no, no, no… Shh… let me savor this moment."

And just as easily as that, with the right amount of affectionate banter, the tension in the air was broken, thawing like snow under the first delicate rays of a spring sun.

Liara playfully backhanded the Spectre on the shoulder. "I know we talked about it, but I never thought you'd do it."

"Well, I did," Lakota said, as her hands gently captured the Asari's waist. "Surprise." Then, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lover's forehead.

"Yes, well, if I hadn't been confined to this apartment for three months…" This time Liara's words contained no bitterness or irritation.

A heavy, cleansing sigh escaped the Asari as she was enveloped by the Spectre's arms, her own wrapping tightly around her lover's waist, holding her close. She closed her eyes and melted into the warm, calming embrace which acted like a lifeline, keeping her afloat in the turbulent waters of her thoughts and emotions.

"Liara… what happened on Eletania…"

The researcher shook her head, loosening her arms slightly so she could place her hand at the center of the Spectre's chest.

"Stop," she said, feeling the heavy weight of reality on her shoulders once again. "Just… stop."

"But—" The fierceness in the Asari's stormy eyes cut short the Spectre's reply.

"I would do it again and again, Shepard. I don't regret my choice, I'm just so angry that it ever had to be a choice."

Lakota scowled. "But the price—"

"You were dying," Liara stated emphatically. "There wasn't time for anything else. If I hadn't been there to meld with you, to act as a conduit for Vindication so it could re-write the virus that had bonded to your DNA, you would have died. And it had to be me because in the end, it was the depth of our bond that allowed me to connect to you so completely. No one else could have."

Mutely, the Spectre nodded, her scowl somehow deepening.

Liara's right hand tenderly cupped the human's cheek. "What's happening to me now isn't a surprise. Vindication warned me that there would be some… obstacles to overcome, that my own neurological makeup would be affected, compromised, and obviously it has been. But don't think for one second that I would hesitate to do it again. You are too important… too important to me."

Capturing the Asari's hand, Lakota brought it to her lips, kissing the palm slowly. "While Aethyta was here, you'd said that you were going to try some basic melding techniques with her. How'd it go?"

Liara shook her head wistfully. "It didn't. I thought by now I'd be able…"

"I know," Lakota whispered. "So did I."

"But what if it never…"

"Liara, that doesn't matter to me."

"But it matters to me! It's a part of me! Like breathing! It's a level of intimacy between us that can't be matched. A connection we forged that is no longer there. It's all of those little blue babies…" Liara looked away to the floor, her eyes glistening as a passing expression of anger and grief swept across her face.

In an act of reassurance, Lakota placed her hands on the Asari's shoulders. "I'll go back to Eletania. I'll get the answers from Vindication."

Liara lifted her head up, sending a dangerous look to the Spectre. "No!"

"But Liara, if it can help…"

"No," the Asari growled, her jaw tight. "There will be no more help from the Protheans. Vindication doesn't have the answers, it said as much before we left the planet. And even if it did, if it meant experimenting on or interfering with other organisms… with us… No. Just, no." With utter finality, she spat her refusal. "That will never happen again."

"But if Vindication has the answers…"

"What if there are no answers, Shepard?!" Liara countered, giving voice to her inner concerns. "What if this is it?! What if we can never meld again?!"

"Then we'll deal with it."

"And if I can never have children?!" Liara, her face now anguished, bit back the grief enveloping her chest and the flood of tears threatening to fall.

"Then we'll deal with that, too," Lakota said, a resolute certainty cemented within her statement. "We'll get through it… like we always have… together."

"You don't know what's going to happen, how this is going to ultimately affect me."

"And neither do you. But what I do know is that you are so much stronger than this. You are going to get through this."

Lakota swept Liara into a strong, all-encompassing hug. "We're in this together," she murmured.

Burrowing into the safe haven of the Spectre's embrace, Liara forced her mind to go blank. She breathed in her lover's comforting scent, settled into the warmth of her body and allowed her own to finally relax.

"My mother once told me that there would be times like this, when everything seems too much, when the struggle just to make it through the day feels all-consuming." Liara's arms tightened their hold as her head rested on her lover's shoulder. "Trying to have a good attitude seems ridiculous when the desire to give up is so inviting."

Lakota remained silent, her lips pressing gently against the Asari's forehead.

"At those times there are only two ways to go, one is up and the other is down. If we choose to do nothing, we slowly gravitate downward. That's the moment we need to remember the alternative… up." Liara paused momentarily as though to collect her thoughts. "She said that choosing to struggle upward is rarely easy, but overcoming something can be a great satisfaction. We just have to remember not to languish and fade, but instead strive to rise, robust and determined. When we decide to do it, we will be able to do it… and help will be provided. It may not appear in the form we expect, but help will arrive."

A soft, serene smile curled on Lakota's lips. "Do you remember when I asked what you thought we could handle, you and me, together?"

She felt Liara's head nod against her shoulder.

"Do you remember your answer?"

Liara nodded again. "Anything," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everything."

"Exactly. You are not alone in this. I am right here, by your side. Always."

And with those words, Lakota vowed to be the soothing presence and offer the steadfast allegiance that Liara needed, to help her find peace, and so much more, while standing still. She used to be like water, constantly flowing from one place to the next, but now, she was going to be an anchor.